


Habitual Gestures

by GoodandIneffable



Series: Good Omens Fic Week [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands Week 2019, M/M, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 16:17:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20491670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodandIneffable/pseuds/GoodandIneffable
Summary: It was only at bars that they were together.





	Habitual Gestures

**Author's Note:**

> rather short but the quality is already getting better
> 
> [For day 2, fake dating au]

It was only at bars that they were together. In Rome, unmarried and desperate women would approach Aziraphale to offer themselves, thinking he’d keep them well off, only to find a slender woman in black slinking into the seat beside him. Once in 1744 Greece, Aziraphale had rescued Crowley from a rather aggressive father trying to marry his 13-year-old daughter by donning a dress and clinging to the demon’s arm. Then, in 1967, Crowley stepped foot into the wrong club and found himself being corralled into an uncomfortable conversation by an uncomfortable man. Seemingly out of nowhere, Aziraphale sidled up to Crowley and took his hand and pulled him close. They had a good laugh about it afterward. The habit heightened in the early 2000s when Crowley felt rather feminine and, for the better part of eleven years, wore heels and skirts and pretty blouses and red lipstick. Left and right she was catcalled, and Aziraphale had exactly none of it. 

“What’s an angel like you doin’ in a place like this?” Crowley didn’t even glance up at the man reeking of alcohol beside her, she just kept her eyes forward and focused on swirling the straw of her blackberry mint julep. Unfortunately, Aziraphale had excused himself to the restroom so she was alone. Not that Crowley couldn’t handle herself, but she rather enjoyed the genuine annoyance and care Aziraphale exhibited in these situations

“Huh, pretty girl? I asked you a question.”

“And I would prefer you to not speak in my direction, yet here we are.”

“Aye, don’t be rude, princess.”

Crowley whipped around, glaring burning holes into him with lowered glasses. “Don’t call me Angel. Don’t call me princess. Get away from me.”

“The fuck’s wrong with your eyes?”

“Is he bothering you, my dear?” Aziraphale says as he returns to the stool beside Crowley, only instead of sitting, he places a hand on her arm and smiles at the drunk. 

“All men bother me,” She hisses. And then leans up against Aziraphale, a petty grin on her painted lips. “Well, besides you.”

“Really, him n’ not me?” The man gestures to Aziraphale. Crowley takes hold of Aziraphale’s face and pushes their mouths together in a messy kiss. It gets the guy to leave, sulking back to his cackling friends a few tables away, and makes Aziraphale turn bright red as he clambers back onto his seat. 

“Wha- what? Why? H-how did- why did-“ He stammers. 

“He left.”

“Was that the only-“

“No, Angel,” Crowley smirks, knocking back the rest of her drink. “And if you want another, all you’ve gotta do is ask.”

“O-oh.” Aziraphale sits quietly for about eight seconds. “May I?” Crowley sets her glass down and leans over, this time more accurately aligning their lips before pressing into the warm and sweet and slow kiss. Aziraphale brings his palm up to her neck. Crowley props a hand on the angel’s bar stool. 

“Mm,” She hums when it’s over. “You’re a good kisser.”

“I am?”

“I wouldn’t lie t’you about that,” Crowley smirks, her heels clicking on the wooden floor as she stands and drops a bill from her wallet on the bar. Her hips sway as she moves toward the exit, stalling only when she notices Aziraphale isn’t following. “C’mon. Lift home?”

“Yes!” Aziraphale jolts. “Yes, of course.” She smiles even wider at him, waiting until they’re beside each other to take his hand. “I suppose that’ll be part of the routine now?”

“When have we ever been _ routine _?” She laughs. 

“Well, I mean saving each other from awful drunkards,” Aziraphale chuckles lightly back. “I suppose.”

“I’d like it to be part of the routine then, yes.” Crowley lets go of Aziraphale to take the Bentley keys from her bag. 

“I should, as well.”

It was a bar where they had their first kiss, but it was the bookshop when Aziraphale told Crowley he didn’t want to fake it any longer. 


End file.
